Phan Oneshot Collection
by TheInternetHomo
Summary: just a collection of phan oneshots written by me bc my brain tends to overflow if i dont expel ideas! ! hold on tight!
1. intro!

hello friends this is a one shot collection made by yours truely. idk how often itll be updated but i have a ton of ideas and a notebook just for one shots so this should be fun ! ! or sad. or sexy. idk omg im going to be putting oneshots in here that i kinda posted before this but whatever i want all my one shots in one place! there will be sexyness and mature content so yeah i hope you enjoy ! ! bye ! ! ! (((each one shot it paired with a song so i dont have to come up with chapter titles. ill link the songs in each chapter too! !) ~katie 


	2. Whispers in the Dark

**Whispers in the Dark – American Teen!Dan, American Teen!Phil **

**Warning: molestation trigger warning, mentioned in whole or brief segments throughout the entire story **

**Word Count: 901 **

**Link to Song: watch?v=zNaM-N1NdGo **

* * *

"Phil, come downstairs, please!"

I shake my head violently. I am eleven, and I am afraid. My covers are ripped off of my body by myself rather than by my father, if you can call him that. I want to run, and I will run. I do not go downstairs. My bedroom window slides open, the wind enters my room, whispering, "Be free". I jump from my second story window, just making the tree next to my room. I jump from the tree, and I run. I run and I don't stop until I get to Dan's. It's ten o'clock at night, and we have school tomorrow, but that doesn't seem to cross my mind.

His house, only minutes from mine, radiates happiness even in the darkness of a March night. I know which window is his, and I go to it. I knock twice and slap it once, our signal. The curtains get pulled back and the glass slides up seconds later.

"Phil?" His voice is small and his eyes are huge. He steps aside to let me come in, which I do without saying a word. "Phil, are you okay?" I look at him with my sad eyes and burst into tears.

* * *

"It'll be our little secret."

"Be quiet, don't wake your mother."

"This is a good thing, Phil. You should be excited!"

I'm pulled out of slumber by my own scream. Familiar tears spill from my eyes silently as I press my face into my pillow. I am sixteen, and I am afraid. My entire body quakes, the floorboards creak underneath me. I feel as if I'm drowning, then again, I wouldn't really mind if I were. My thoughts devour me just like they do any other night; I have to bring my hands up to cover my ears to stop them from coming out.

My cries get uncontrollably louder until a pair of thin arms wrap around my waist, pulling me quickly to the left. I flip over mid-tug, my head meeting Dan's chest.

"It'll be okay," He whispers against my hair. He knows just how to hold me, what to say, what not to say, he comforts me like no other. He is experienced, he knows about my PTSD. We lie on the floor; a blubbering mess and a well put together consoler, wrapped under various blankets. Our separate blankets from just minutes ago seem to mesh together and form multiple ones that cover our two bodies. My hands reach for his waist; I drape a flimsy arm over his side as the tears continue to flow. My cries are steady now. I wonder if Dan's parents ever hear them.

* * *

**To: Dan Meet me at the park, please. **

**To: Phil on my way. i hope you're okay. ily. x **

I wait on the swings, my feet gently brushing the woodchips under my feet. I am eighteen and I am not as afraid. I have grown, but fear still rests within me. Dan shows up three minutes later. I stand up from the swings and wave slightly in his direction. He starts running once he sees me, colliding against me, his arms outstretched and waiting for me ten meters ago. I tuck my face into the crook of his neck and allow him to wrap himself around me.

"Your hair is so soft," He lets out a content sigh very close to my ear. I melt into him and do what I never thought I'd have enough courage to do. I kiss his neck. It's just a peck, not enough to leave anything, but I can feel Dan freeze for just a second before tightening his grip on me, giddy laughter escaping him. "I'm so proud of you, you know." He whispers, bring a hand up to run through my hair. We stand in silence until I tell him the reason I asked him to come.

"Harry asked my mom to marry him." Dan pulls back from me just a bit to look at me.

"Well, that's a good thing!" He smiles at me, brushing the hair out of my eyes. I can't meet his gaze. "Phil, hey, come on," His hand touches my chin. "Harry's a good guy, we've been to dinner with him! He's even okay with us." His hand finds mine and he tugs me onto the swings behind us. He sits first before unexpectedly pulling me onto his lap. I smile slightly and allow myself to relax.

"I know, he's great, but…" "He's not going to do anything to hurt you, Phil, I promise." Dan's voice is almost stern, but it's a gentle sternness. He rewraps his arms around me. "I promise."

* * *

Sun pours in from our bedroom window. Dan holds me, his bare chest touching my bare back. His soft breathing matches mine, his heartbeat pulses just as mine. I smile and flip around, wrapping my arms around Dan and kissing his smooth chest, shoulders, and neck. I no longer fear intimacy His eyes flutter open in a form that reminds me of a butterfly's beautiful wings. He smiles at me and hoists me up to him, kissing me square on the lips. A laugh escapes me as my hands weave through his curly, feathery hair.

"I love you." He says, kissing every inch of my face.

"I love you too." I am twenty-two, and I am not afraid.


	3. Hurt

**Hurt – Phan **

**Warning: angst, suicide trigger warning **

**Word Count: 850 **

**Link to Song: watch?v=S0h9VX_y6_w**

* * *

"Phil, please come back."

"No, Dan. I'm done." Phil slams the flat door, leaving Dan in a painful silence before the brown haired boys cries tear through the air. How could this have happened? He and Phil never fought. Never. And this was just a stupid argument over a jacket for Christ's sake. Words that he hadn't meant had flown out of his mouth before he could stop them. He was foolish, and now Phil was gone.

**-Three Months Later- **

Dan hadn't heard from Phil for months. He was worried. Worried sick, actually. He began to have breakdowns, he stopped making videos for a month, he never left the empty flat. It was his fault that Phil might be somewhere where he wasn't safe. He called and texted him every day for three months, never giving up.

But Phil never answered.

Dan almost filed a missing persons report. But he didn't.

That would be a bit overboard.

He only left the house twice in the three month gap. Once to pick up the new Pokemon game, the second for his job. After Phil left, the Dan and Phil show had been put on a kind of hiatus, leaving Dan to find a new, hopefully temporary, way to pay the bills. Yes, YouTube did pay well, but he could hardly be bothered to continue making regular videos. Phil had stopped vlogging, so Dan stopped vlogging. It was like a never ending chain reaction; the longer Phil was gone, the more Dan drifted.

Dan didn't actually have a job. He just liked to tell himself he did.

The second time he left his lonely home was the time he was supposed to leave for good.

That was sort of a job, wasn't it? Maybe it was more of a chore.

Before leaving for a final time, Dan put on his best suit for some unknown reason. He didn't even know. Maybe it was just his dramatic side shining through. This was going to be a dramatic night, after all.

It was raining lightly, but you could still see the stars littered across the sky; Dan's favorite weather. His stride was confident and his hands were shy, buried deep into his pockets. His hair was ruffled and curly from the misting and his laziness. Brown eyes glanced at the reflection of his figure in a store window. He looked good, and he _knew_ it.

How ironic.

He had even bought a new pair of shoes for the occasion; all black Chuck Taylor's. The rubber rimming was as dark as the cloth siding and tongue. He rather liked them, and really hoped to not dirty them in this slightly dirty process. Maybe someone else could use them. Then again, would anyone really go so low as to take a nice pair of shoes from a dead guy? Probably. It was London, after all.

Dan walked for about thirty minutes, or until he no longer knew where he was, he wasn't sure which came first that night. He saw a Starbucks and almost considered stopping for about two seconds. The urge faded quickly when he spotted a grouping of automobiles rumbling at a red light, ready to stampede forward. He smiled softly to himself, his hands peeking out from his pockets to roll up his sleeves.

He hadn't smiled in weeks.

He was ready.

His plan ran through his head in a flash like a herd of gazelle. A black iPhone made its way into his hand and twitter almost seemed to open itself.

_"Goodbye Internet. It was fun." _

He kept the phone in his grasp after the message posted. A flurry of replies swarmed over him almost immediately. His stomach lurched just a bit; he didn't want anyone, any of his fans, to be seriously effected. His index finger found the power button and his eyes found the street.

He was so ready.

"Dan?"

The voice, that voice, that called him was smooth as honey, even with the light, almost nonexistent northern twang. Dan didn't turn in the fear of what he might see. He was crazy.

"I'm crazy," he muttered to himself quietly, almost harshly. He was scolding himself.

The iPhone was gently removed from his hand and replaced with something softer, and much warmer. Pressure surrounded his hand in a light squeeze as it was lifted up, greeted with something even softer. Lips? No. It couldn't be. He swiveled in an act of courage towards the warmth.

He collapsed.

He didn't sob, he didn't yell, he didn't make a sound. He just fell into Phil's lanky but perfect arms.

Phil bent down onto the sidewalk because of all the weight Dan had put on him; he didn't want to drop his love again. Phil collected Dan into his arms, wrapping himself around him, almost imitating how he had wrapped himself around the younger boys heart. He fisted the brown curly locks gently, showing absolutely no signs of letting go. He struggled to form words, only being able to whisper a watery and almost pathetic

"I'm sorry."

That's when Dan finally broke down.


End file.
